After Hours
by vault of glass
Summary: Kinktober prompts for Mac and River. [explicit]
1. Teeth

She really ought to be more careful.

River knows this, knows it as MacCready claims her hips in his hands and closes his teeth around the base of her throat, knows how easily she loses track of time and space and _responsibilities_ when she lets him get his hands on her. A few hasty kisses between meetings have already evolved into his tongue at the curve of her lip and the hard shape of his cock pressed between them. MacCready seems to want her with a hunger verging on starvation, and knowing the way her body craves him back…

She really ought to be more careful.

Instead, she drags him by the hand into the tool shed around the side of Preston's house, closing the door swiftly behind them. She catches his smile just before he kisses her, her face in his hands, pinning her back against a set of metal shelves. He sucks her lip between his teeth, licking into her mouth, as if they haven't kissed in years and he's forgotten what it's like - that gentle, endless way he always savors her.

River moans when he nips her throat, just beneath her jawline. "I-I don't have much time -"

His mouth softens against her skin, lazy, lingering kisses that draw like tides at her heart. "I'll take every second I can get." He lifts his head to nibble at the shell of her ear, and she shudders in his arms. "Quiet, yeah?"

"Mmhm!" She nods, already inching his shirt up his chest, and he laughs under his breath as he pulls it over his head. He makes quick work of her clothes; he's ripped her out of them more times than she could ever dream to count, and his skilled hands and muscle memory soon have her half-naked in the tool shed. She pulls his belt loose, slipping his pants down his thighs, and then his cock is thick and silky in her hands, and the _sound_ he makes - so rough and pure, the way hunger burns, like the rush of her heartbeat, there's nothing sweeter than when MacCready wants her like this.

"Wish I could taste you first," he groans, just breath and syllables at her ear as he crowds her against the rusted shelves. She grips at cold metal above her for some center of balance while her head spins, panting, breathless, squirming at his fingers searching between her thighs. "Later," he promises in a gruff voice, teasing calloused fingertips along her sex. She can hear the wet slick of his fingers as he finds the dip of her cunt and pushes in, biting a groan into her shoulder at the warm, velvet feel of her. His fingers fill her slowly, fucking deeper, languid, tracing determined shapes until she's trembling and biting into her fist to keep herself quiet.

"Here," he murmurs, wrapping his hand around her wrist and tilting his head back, offering the column of his throat. She whines and sinks her teeth into his shoulder, anchoring them together as he lifts her legs around his waist. She feels the thick head of his cock nudging at her thighs, finding, parting slick folds and driving home in one fluid push. The breath catches in her throat, and her mouth sucks hard at his skin, biting back each wild cry that threatens to break free. MacCready ducks his head and mouths a breathy _fuck_ as he rocks his hips, sinking deeper, and for a few heartbeats, her world narrows down to his hands and his mouth and how fucking _thick_ he feels inside of her.

Tools and bottles rattle on the shelves as he thrusts into her, fingernails digging crescents into her hips. With the white-knuckle hold she has around the shelf above her, River swings into each pump of his hips, and when he hilts hard and fills her, she can't hold back a high-pitched squeal. His mouth finds her neck and bites down, a punishment of teeth and suction that makes her shiver and whimper his name.

He shushes her between rough kisses down her throat, even as his voice threads raw and heavy with need. "Gotta do better than that, baby," he whispers, slowing his hips to sink in inch by inch, and River's nails cling urgently into his shoulders as he fucks her. He grunts when the blunt of her teeth catch his neck, lean muscle tensing beneath her tongue. "Fffffuu -" His voice stutters out into a groan. "God, you feel so _good_."

MacCready latches his mouth at the base of her neck, and the sharp pleasure-sting sets her reeling toward the edge. She falls into the sound of his breath, wrecked and ragged at her ear, his steady grip around her thighs, the webbing swell of pleasure when he fills her with the thick weight of his cock.

"RJ, I'm -!" She feels her mouth form the words but can't quite find the breath to voice them, just locks a scream behind her teeth before he rolls a thumb over her clit and makes her come. She has to clamp her teeth into his skin to keep herself silent, shuddering between his body and the hard bars of metal behind her, teetering on the cusp of a frenzied scream and barely hanging on.

Something bulky and metal falls from one of the shelves, shaken loose by their urgency and promptly ignored as MacCready bites down into pale, smooth skin and spills inside of her, choking out a broken moan at the base of her throat.

In the breathless wake of coming down, he drags sated kisses over the marks he's left behind, her name barely there on his voice. Gingerly, he eases her back onto her feet, murmuring something about being too loud, and with the smug, satisfied gleam in his eyes, she really can't bring herself to regret it.

But next time, she really ought to be more careful.


	2. Comfort

MacCready knows that look: bright-eyed and smiling, like a secret she can't wait to share, and just seeing it light up River's face steals the breath from his lungs. He lifts a brow at her, enjoying the heat in her eyes. "Can I help you with somethin', Bautista?"

Her lips part for a delicate laugh. "You certainly can." She raises her slender hands to his chest, gripping a fistful of his shirt and yanking him down into a kiss. Her mouth moves soft and eager beneath his own, then her teeth edge into his lip, and a rush thrills through him at the small lance of pain. She guides him backward through the garage, and he lets her, trusting her lead, never breaking her gaze. He feels the couch hit his knees and drops back onto it with a huff.

River frees her hair first, waves of white sinking down around her shoulders, then shrugs out of her coat. His mouth feels abruptly far too dry as he watches her undress, slowly, deliberate, because River is and always will be an absolute spectacle. He's seen her body every day for months and in his fucking _dreams_ at night, but the sight of all her smooth, soft skin still stokes at something wild and hungry in him.

MacCready welcomes her into his lap when she plants her knees around him, gliding his hands up the slope of pale thighs to her hips. She slants her mouth over his, eager, needy kisses, sucking his lip between her teeth. Her thighs shift in his hands as she presses closer, the weight of her a dull and pleasant pressure, just enough to make his head spin. He feels her fingers tugging through the buttons of his shirt, then her palms on his bare chest, warm and thin and familiar. Her hands drift slowly down his chest, fingers branching out to trace the seams of scars scattered across his torso.

"So many," she murmurs, her eyes heavy-lidded when she lifts them to meet his. He sees that same avid hunger there, but with it something softer, fond, admiration in the gold of her gaze. She looks at him like he could lift the world in his hands, and he can almost believe it himself when her lips tilt up into that loving smile. His breath hitches when River drops an easy kiss to the long, thin scar that stretches across his torso.

"That okay?" she asks against his skin, glancing up at him through her lashes.

MacCready huffs a winded laugh. "You can do whatever you want with me, angel."

"Don't tempt me," she teases and bites softly at his shoulder, his muscles tensing under little blunt teeth. "I'll keep you here all to myself and never let you leave."

"Fuck it, keep me," he sighs in a dreamy voice. "Spend a lifetime here fucking you if you let me."

A song of grateful laughter purrs in her throat. "Sweet." She kisses over every scar and faded bullet wound that marks his chest, gentle and adoring, as if she might heal them away by sheer force of will. He winds his hand into her hair, gathering white silk between his fingers, watching as she trails warm kisses down his chest and leaves a constellation of violet blossoms in her wake.

MacCready sucks in a sharp breath when she sinks down between his knees, tugging his belt open. Those deft, slender fingers wrap around the base of his cock, and she bites her plush lower lip between her teeth, voicing a soft little moan. "Baby," she sighs, dipping her lips to the hard heat in her hands, and his head falls back with a deep groan at the first warm feel of her mouth. The hand in her hair clenches tighter on instinct, and she leans into his grip, dragging her tongue up the line of his cock and parting to take him between her lips. She works him slowly deeper into her mouth, past the soft ring of her lips and tongue to the back of her throat, then _deeper_ , and the tight, wet heat grips around him like a vise.

"Shit," he hisses, fighting the urge to buck those last few inches of his cock into her mouth. River drags her lips around the last of him before he gets the chance, and he wishes he could burn the image of her like this into the backs of his eyelids and see that beautiful, tempting mouth around his cock every time that he closes his eyes. He feels her tongue writhe up the length of his shaft as she pulls away, pausing to curl around the thick head at his end.

" _Christ_ ," MacCready sighs, shuddering as he swipes his thumb across her wet lips. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

River simply smiles, rising back into his lap, her cheeks rosy pink with want. He cradles the side of her neck in his hand and catches her lips in a hungry kiss, drinking down the moan she breathes. Her fingers twist firm and slick up the length of his cock, guiding him between her legs, and he laces their free hands together as she sinks down around him. Her mouth spills open around a gasp, shaping toward his name, fingernails biting into the back of his hand. When her hips snap flush against his, they both tense and groan at the tight fit.

"Oh god," she breathes, grinding her hips in a lazy circle and shivering in his lap. A brief smile of relief crosses her face. " _God_ , you're fucking perfect."

MacCready grasps at her hip when she lifts and drops slowly back down, savoring every inch of him, her eyes rolling up under her lids. Her arm winds urgently around his neck, gripping nails at his shoulder for support as she rocks her hips to take him deeper. He bites messy kisses along her throat, ranting mindlessly against her skin, a swell of curses that he can't quite keep down, not when River's in his lap and riding him like her life is on the line.

He bends his neck and plays his mouth across her breasts, stiff pink nipples under his tongue, and a high whine from her throat somewhere above his head. She whimpers and clenches around him, and a tight coil of pressure sinks down into his gut, sweeping him like a current toward the edge.

"Riv -" He grits her name out between his teeth, rough and breathless. "Fuck, Riv, I'm close."

River gasps when he shoves his hips up hard against her, nodding in desperation. "Please," she urges him, and her voice breaks apart around the word as he digs his teeth into her shoulder. "Inside," she begs, never slowing the rough, frantic roll of her hips. "Wanna feel you, baby, _please_ -"

MacCready grabs her by the hips, holding her in place as he comes and fills her with a quivering groan. In the blinding crash of his climax, he feels River squeezing tight around his cock when she tips over after him, moaning at the feel of him spilling inside of her.

The rush slowly fades into a pleasant warmth tingling through him. River lifts off of him on shaky knees, and MacCready stills her with his hands at her thighs, parting them to watch the thick white of his spend start to seep out from inside of her. He drives her deliberately back down onto his cock, still hard and slick, fucking his cum back into her with one last languid thrust.

"Oh," she sighs, soft as a breeze at his ear. " _RJ_."

"Mmn," he agrees, holding her close to the heartbeat slamming in his chest. Eventually he'll have to let her go, but for now she seems content to linger together like this a moment longer, tracing shapes across his sweat-damp chest.

"Better?" he murmurs with a satisfied smile.

"Always." She smiles back, flushed and glowing in his lap. "For now, at least."

MacCready grins and squeezes affectionately at her hip, already eager for the next time she gets that look on her face, when he can get his mouth between her legs and show her just how much he likes helping her with her problems.


	3. Breathless

River has always been full of surprises. And just when MacCready starts to think he's discovered them all, she finds another way to prove him wrong, like the night she asks him in the quiet lull of afterglow if he'd ever be willing to choke her while he fucks her.

"I'd like you to," she adds, with a rare note of shyness in her voice. "But only if you're okay with that."

MacCready glances over at the woman he loves and tries to imagine the slim column of her neck beneath his grasp.

"Yeah," he says. "I'm okay with that."

* * *

The first time River begs him for a hand around her throat, he takes it easy on her - _has_ to, hazy with the heat of her around him, _she's so small, so soft, she can't possibly_ _want_ \- and then he wraps the lightest grip around her neck, and River fucking _comes_ beneath him, sobbing his name through the high, dissolving the last of his doubt in a few frantic heartbeats.

Over time, he tests her limits, tempers his strength, learns where to meet the two with masterful precision, because River never comes as hard as when he's choking her. And he didn't think he would, but he likes the way her throat feels in his hand, the unending _trust_ that she must have in him, some earnest, burning need to offer the breath in her lungs.

So when River tilts her head back, baring the pale stretch of her neck, his fingers find her throat on instinct. Her mouth shapes a grateful smile, and she parts her thighs around him, drawing him closer. He holds her just hard enough for her to feel the pressure, dropping his free hand between her legs, teasing calloused fingers at wet heat. The points of her nails bite stinging trails down his sides, a wordless plea for more, for _harder_ , and he will always give her what she wants, but he might also make her wait for it.

She seems to sense it from the slow stroke of his touch, whining an impatient moan. "RJ -"

"Gettin' to it." He grins and licks his thumb just for effect, _she's already so fucking_ _wet_ , mapping a silhouette around the hood of her clit and coaxing shivers down her body. Her throat swells with a gasp beneath his palm, her racing pulse, her voice a broken verse of need and pleasure. He feels her legs drawn tight around his waist, and she can't seem to figure out if she wants more or less, her hips rocking closer and swiftly shying away.

MacCready evens out his touch and tracks the waves of tension in her body, following her pace. Her voice spills out in blissed-out hymns, and he can just make out the sound of _love you, love you, love you_ on her lips. She arches restlessly beneath him, losing grasp of lucid words, keening as the current builds and breaks and takes her under.

Watching River fall apart is always such a rush. She comes with every atom of her being, like a star at supernova, bright enough to blot out an entire world around him. He listens to the rise of desperate noises, hoarse and pleading, stuttered out into a voiceless gasp when he fills her with his fingers.

He gives her little time to catch her breath, slipping between her thighs, slicking wet fingers over his cock. He drags the thick head down her sex and holds her gaze as he sinks slowly in, watching the relief play across her features. A groan slips through his teeth at the tight feel of her, hot and wet and velvet, every time that he slides home is somehow better than the last.

" _Baby_ ," almost scolding, an adorable attempt at stern when she's fucked-out and breathless underneath him.

MacCready drives in to the hilt and holds there, waiting for River to draw one last deep breath before he firms his grip around her throat. He feels her clench around his cock, moaning in his grasp, her eyelids slipping closed as if finally, _finally_ , she's found some glimpse of peace.

She's tried so many times to name the feeling, weightless, reeling, needing and not reaching; apparently the burn for breath makes everything ache _sweeter_. All MacCready knows is that she clings to him with every ounce of strength in her slim body, trying to form words past his grip.

His hand curls tighter, edging toward her limits, River nodding desperately for more. She's close again, he can tell from the seize in her muscles, and he pins her by the neck as he fucks her harder, swift, relentless snaps of his hips until she comes for him a second time, tears of bliss in silver tracks down her face. The heat of her cunt grips tight at his cock, nearly dragging him after her, and he barely stops himself from tipping over the edge.

MacCready takes his hand from her throat, and she sucks in a heavy breath, still twitching with aftershocks of pleasure. "Thank you," she gasps, winded and loving, wiping at the tears in her lashes. "Thank you, thank you," and only _River_ would think to thank him for choking the shit out of her.

"Anytime." An easy promise to make when her face is glowing with the rosy flush of satisfaction. He shifts his cock a few inches deeper, and watches her expression twist with ecstasy. "I like how hard it makes you come."

River strangles out a breathy laugh, amber eyes shining adoringly up at him. "There's really nothing like it."

"Yeah?" He drops his mouth to her neck, biting down at smooth, soft skin. Slim fingers sink into his hair, and he feels a satisfied hum beneath his lips.

"I can show you," she breathes, and his mouth stills against her. "If you ever want. Just say the word."

MacCready lifts his head and stares wordlessly down at her, reading the eager edge to her smile. A sudden knot twists in his stomach, and he recognizes the thrill of anticipation when he feels it.

"I'll take care of you," she promises, kissing his thumb when he strokes his fingers along her cheekbone.

He claims her mouth and traces his thumb down the slope of her neck. "Please," he breathes, rough with need. "How should I -?"

"Just keep fucking me," River urges him, reaching for his belt on the floor. He angles one of her legs up over his elbow and shoves deep, fucking a wounded groan out of her as she loops his belt around his neck. "And trust me."

He _does_ , he always _will_ , he digs his fingers at her hips and feels her draw the belt tighter and tighter around the base of his throat. The pressure closes in at his breath, lacing each shallow drag of air through his teeth with the heady craving for more. She grips the belt securely in her fist, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

" _Fuck_ , you look good like this," she gasps, voice breaking at each firm thrust of his hips. His breath still makes it past the belt around his neck, but only _just_ , never enough, and suddenly he understands, the reeling, needing and not reaching, everything burns fucking sweeter with his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The edge comes racing toward him, latching on like an ambush, and he can only form a strangled groan as he sinks his cock deep and spills inside of her. Spots of white flicker behind his eyelids, starbursts in the darkness, and right when he starts to come back down, River releases the belt from around his neck.

MacCready drinks a rush of air into his lungs, panting to catch his breath. She kisses soothingly over his jaw and murmurs gentle praise, sated as their heartbeats settle.

"Oh, fuck," he croaks after the rush fades from his ears and he finds his voice. The world feels strangely bright and vibrant around him, like waking up from a very long sleep. He can't remember ever coming so hard before.

"That was okay?" She blinks big amber eyes up at him, far too precious for a woman who just choked him with his own belt. Her hand slides lovingly down the nape of his neck.

"Yeah," he says, and muffles a laugh against her throat. "I'm okay with that."


	4. Trouble

River likes MacCready on his back. He gets mouthy and defiant and so incredibly _hard_ when he's at her mercy, pinned between her knees and still flaunting that cheeky smirk, daring her to make a move.

"All right, boss… you got me here." MacCready licks his teeth, a glint of wordless challenge in his eyes. _Now what?_

She narrows a glare at him, testing her nails along his shoulders, contours of lean muscle and old scars she's learned and loved by touch a thousand times. "God, you think you're so cute."

His hands drift comfortably up her thighs, and his smile never wavers, calm and confident. "Yeah? And whose fault is that?"

River can't help a laugh as she sinks down against his chest. "You were trouble long before I ever found you." Her mouth charts a languid path down his throat, and she feels his laughter in low tremors at her lips. "But I suppose I may have encouraged you a little."

His fingers map her spine, the delicate line of her neck, his head falling back when her tongue tracks the pulse in his throat. "This feels like… encouragement."

The teeth at his neck close in and tease at leaving marks before she lifts her head and appraises him with the sliver of a smile. Her fingernails sketch sharp pink trails down his arms, raising goosebumps in her wake, and shadowed blue stares back at her, unfazed. Hers are only little pains, glimpses into something aching, soothed away by the soft of her lips, but she feels his heartbeat pounding in response behind his ribs.

MacCready tightens his hands around her thighs, dragging her down against the hard weight of his cock trapped between them, watching the brief shift of pleasure cross her features. "I think you like when I'm trouble." His voice still teases even breathless, and he presses so temptingly _sweet_ between her legs - with a tilt of her hips she could easily join them together and ride until she comes, and the fervent determination on his face very nearly goads her into it.

"What I _like_ -" And River sinks her fingers through his hair, gripping wild tawny in her fist, "is making you _behave_." His smile finally twitches, shaken by the stern bite to her voice and her hips dragging slowly back, teasing the heat of her sex over his cock. A sound wrenches from deep in his chest, throat bobbing as he swallows, tension taut across his jaw. His pupils swell with black, his smirk forgotten in some fleeting fissure through that smug exterior, and she adores the very arrogance she scolds in him, but she loves slipping past it even more.

"Well…" he starts, and his voice comes out dry and parched. "Good luck with that." His right hand spans the soft planes of her stomach, gliding up between her breasts, his lips spreading back into a knowing smile as his fingers find her nipples. At the whirl of his thumb around first one and then the other, River drops her head back, heat winding through her like a coil. He takes the opening, hunting his free hand up the slope of her thigh. "Apparently I'm _trouble_." The pad of his thumb slides into place above her clit, hinting easy circles, slickened with her want. "'Course, you could always just… let me misbehave."

"It's dangerous even letting you talk," River chides, and grips her nails into his hands, pinning them above his shoulders and ignoring the hollow ache that follows the loss of his touch. "You never know when to stop."

MacCready grins, grazing his tongue across the point of a canine. "Then why don't you come shut me up?"

River voices a soft laugh, tilting her head at him. "Is that what you want, baby?"

Without a word, he lifts his hand from the bed and pops his thumb into his mouth, holding her gaze as he licks the taste of her from his finger. Shivers branch her nerves, phantom touches of his mouth between her thighs, of every time that ardent, starving mouth has _devoured_ her before.

"Tell me, baby." She toys her thumb along his lips, humming when he presses a kiss to her fingertip. "Tell me what you want, or you get nothing."

His mouth twists into a smirk. "I want to taste you," he says slowly against her thumb, each syllable deliberate, defiant even when he listens. Then his tongue drags the pad of her finger, and she pulls her hand away, punishing her nails into his hips until he hisses.

"How badly, _cariño_?" she coaxes him, lullaby-sweet.

The teeth are clenched behind his lips when he sighs, hips tensing beneath her, reminding her of his cock waiting thick and heavy between her thighs, as if she could ever forget. " _Starving for you_ ," he breathes, voice strained like all the rest of him.

River leads his hands back to her hips, waiting to feel the secure wrap of his grip before she braces her palms at his chest and swings up onto her knees. "And where do you want me?" she asks. The question feels airy and weak on her tongue, but MacCready is already yanking her closer, guiding her knees over his shoulders, lifting her into place with a swiftness that almost steals her breath. She grabs the headboard for support, dropping a glance at his satisfied smile between her knees, no ounce of smugness, just a blaze of triumph in his eyes.

His mouth drags the slope of her thigh, lazy kisses first, then nibbling teeth, savoring his time now that he has her where he wants her. The flat of his tongue tracks higher, wonderful warmth at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, winding closer to where he's left her slick and wanting.

When her hand sinks into his hair again, he curls his arms around her legs and tugs her bodily against his mouth, meeting wet heat with a long, searching sweep of his tongue, and her breath rips from her in a rugged gasp. Her fingers pull and twist in his hair, blind instinct on the back of blissful tremors pooling through her from the tip of his tongue.

MacCready groans beneath her at the sting, or in approval; she can't make sense of his noises when he laves them open-mouthed against her skin, but his grip tightening greedily around her thighs seems to suggest the latter. She feels his tongue climb the folds of her sex, seeking, finding, circling down on her clit until her hips shudder above him, twitching away from the sudden, staggering touch.

River bites her lip, fighting the tremble that drops her spine. "Oh, fuck-!"

He curls his tongue and nurses sucking kisses, wringing her body into a tense curve above him. His fingers digging at her thighs lock her in place against his working mouth and tongue, so much, so firm, so _hot_ , that burning sun between his lips, searing shapes that layer her with thriving heat, and every little tension in her body scatters out, weightless, ashes, dust. All that's left is the push-pull of rising pressure, and her thighs shaking around his head as he drives his tongue in tight, precision arcs.

His right hand squeezes at her thigh and shifts behind her, pausing to admire the curves of her ass before she feels his fingertips slide up beneath his mouth. They dance at pushing in, measured echoes of the strokes his tongue makes, and she aches to feel them sink and crook and fill her.

" _RJ_ ," she scolds him, hardly breath enough to form a whisper, but his voice rumbles against her, something like a laugh, like _there it is_ , the point at which she breaks and starts to beg. "Oh, _please_ , baby."

After a few more teasing sweeps of his fingers, he finally pushes in, easy with his tongue, tempering one slick, wet pleasure to another, and she's taught him far too much, because the expert way he strings her toward release has her gasping and shaken and teetering on that edge in a matter of dizzying moments.

He pumps his fingers in a determined rhythm, rolling pressure with the broad of his tongue, coaxing tremors up her body. Everything wrings tight and sharp, twinges feather-branching out through every nerve. Her breath breaks and stutters, and her hips roll closer to his mouth, arching into a firm lick from his tongue that forces her across that line. The world spins out of focus, swallowed up into the dark behind her eyelids as the bursts of blinding heat spiral through her. She hears herself whining his name, shuddering at the last twitches still scorching from his mouth between her thighs, before the warmth recedes and saps all the strength from her limbs, and she barely has the energy to yank him away with the fist still gripped in his hair.

MacCready flashes her a triumphant grin, his lips slick and swollen. She swipes her fingers lovingly across his mouth, smiling at the nibble of his teeth. His hair sweeps out in wild tufts, mussed by frantic hands, his eyes still dark with want as she catches her breath.

River's heart gives a sudden squeeze at the sight of him smiling up at her, wrecked and messy and more than satisfied with his work, the shining bright contentment in his gaze. "You _are_ cute," she breathes fondly, leaning down to kiss the edge of his mouth. "Insufferably cute. And I very much like when you're trouble."

His laughter rings low and warm in response. "I know, angel," he promises, and lifts a hand to brush her hair over her shoulder, pressing his thumb briefly to the dimple above her smile. His other hand finds the silken heat between her thighs and drives two fingers deep in one fluid thrust, drawing a moan up her throat. "I like it, too."


	5. Rooftop

River watches the sun dip past the walls of Diamond City and lifts her glass to toast the passing of another day. Her muscles ache with bruises and fatigue, but the whiskey and cola are cool in her glass and sweet across her tongue when she takes a long, indulgent sip. The last few days of summer bless the evening with a breezy warmth as the town carries on below them, voices drifting up in wordless echoes from the market.

For a blissful moment, River enjoys something close to relaxation.

"Tomorrow I'm not doing shit," she declares in a prim voice.

MacCready laughs beside her, and the whiskey bottle dangles mostly empty from between his fingers. "Good," he approves, slouched low in his seat, his boots crossed and resting on an upturned crate. "You work too hard."

Her smile feels almost as tired as the rest of her, but no less loving for it. "Working too hard is who I _am_."

"Not all of you." He grins sidelong at her, amusement bright in the blue of his eyes. "You play hard, too." His gaze drags slowly down her neck, blown-out and distant, like he's picturing just where to sink his teeth in, and suddenly she's all too aware of how badly she wants to feel them.

"Do I?" She giggles into the back of her hand, her laughter warm and brassy. Whiskey numbs the ache of tired muscles, and leaves behind a greedy heat that tints her world in golds and pinks, the sunset colors scattered bright across the darkening sky.

MacCready pauses with the bottle halfway to his mouth, flashing her a showy wink. "You've earned it." His smile confident, with all the certainty of universal truths, and maybe she's just tipsy and tense after a long day, but he's _right_ , she's _earned_ a night all to herself. She's earned the sunset and the old-world whiskey in her glass, and the knowing smirk on MacCready's face as she rises from her chair and drapes herself over him. Rough hands claim her hips, and his mouth trails the line of her shoulder, marking teeth up her throat. "I was hoping I'd get you over here."

Her laughter bubbles like champagne, breathless when his teeth edge deeper. "I love you," she says simply. "I'm yours when you want me."

"Mmn." His voice rumbles pleased and permissive against her skin. "Love you too, beautiful." After one last lingering bite at the base of her throat, he lifts his head to kiss her, and his hands slip past her shirt with all the purpose of a man possessed. His tongue licks whiskey-sweet across her lip, teeth nibbling in, his fingers feathered out along her ribs. They've already gotten far too bold for her balcony above the market, but River ignores the brief flicker of concern and puts her faith in the falling dark of not-quite-night to mask them.

MacCready seems just as reluctant to release her, flicking open buttons of her flannel with impatient fingers, his mouth chasing fervently along the skin he frees. "River," he breathes, raspy from want and liquor, hips surging hard between her thighs. "God, I want to fuck you right here." Right here, on her balcony, for all the stars and upper stands to see -

River whines as he tugs roughly at her clothes. His fingers disappear beneath the hemline of her skirt, and heat pursues his touch like rays of sunlight, catching, urgent as she drags in greedy sips of cooling air. "Then fuck me," she pleads, splaying nails over his shoulders, her mouth soft and tempting at the curve of his lip. "Please, baby. Right here."

She feels his knuckles skim her thighs, and then his fingers are hooking her panties to the side and hunting busily along slick heat, and the cursory touch that he drags down around her clit tears a gasp from her lungs. Her hips shudder and lock when his fingers push in, filling her with long, determined strokes, and each crook of his fingers spurs that perfect pressure deeper, to the end of every nerve. Past the dim and distant sounds of Diamond City winding down, she hears the click of his belt, and then his free hand anchors at her hip and guides her against the swollen head of his cock, and she needs no further prompting to sink down around him.

That first stretch steals her breath and carries through her like a riptide, storming with the force of ocean waves as MacCready grabs her other hip and sets a fervid pace. She arches up into a wild curve and scrabbles at the muscles in his shoulders, keening high and shrill behind her teeth.

"Oh fuck, that's good," he seethes, and rocks his hips up in a brutal rhythm, leading her with firm hands into every thrust. She can't stem the frenzied noises rising in her throat, fucked loose in broken moans and shivers, bitten down against his shoulder. " _Fuuuck_ , River -"

With a breathless laugh, she presses fingers over his mouth, and whimpers when his tongue lashes across her palm. " _Baby_ ," she chides, " _quietly_." She really doesn't need any nosy neighbors wandering over at the noise, but another sharp swing of his hips wracks her body with a violent shudder and a moan that breaks her voice. "Ohh, fuck. And _harder_."

His chuckle swells rough against her skin, teeth dragging past her collarbone and marking the pale curves of her breasts. He locks her hips in place against each savage thrust, and River throws her hair back in a long, white arc, lifting her face to the dark and the glittering stars before her eyes slip closed. Praise and prayer claim her thoughts, and she just barely swallows back her voice, the blissful rant that always rises when she toes the line of coming. His grip is almost bruising at her hips, and he grinds deep in a languid, rolling thrust, as if he knows the words are building, and he wants to fuck them out of her.

"C'mon, baby," he urges her, lifting his thumb to the slick folds where she parts around his cock. "Lemme see you come."

The pressure from his fingers sends her spiraling toward the edge. Warmth swells her spine and tightens like a vise in the pit of her gut, devouring her world in spools of blinding heat. She gasps and pants through gritted teeth and stifles the strangled shadow of her voice into his throat, sinking back against his last, erratic thrusts before he slams their hips together and falls apart, filling her with a rush of warmth.

River ducks her head against his shoulder, struggling to hear past the pounding rhythm of her heart. His fingers soothe lovingly down her arms, gathering her hands and bringing them to his lips, pressing kisses to her shaking knuckles. "Oh, no," she breathes, an airy giggle, flushing pink as MacCready scans the stands above them. "Oh, we really shouldn't have done that."

His chest shakes with laughter, and he gazes up at her from under heavy lids, mapping out the smile on her face against the stars. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure we got away with it."

"We'll just have to see if the guards come knocking down our door to evict us." She climbs gingerly to her feet, fixing her skirt back into place, wincing at the dull ache that lingers in her muscles. "They'll have to wait to kick me out. I'm not doing shit tomorrow."


	6. High and Dry

MacCready wakes to thunder and the sticky-sweet smell of weed.

Rain pounds across the roof as he blinks tired eyes, hazy rings of lantern light flickering slowly into focus. River paints a graceful shape of folded porcelain limbs across the couch, the joint between her fingers as she listens to the storm - symphonies to her, and he just wishes he could sleep through all the noise.

The bed is blissfully warm and tempting him to stay, but he drags himself from the sheets, mouthing soundless curses when his feet touch icy concrete. He gathers the faded quilt from their bed and picks his way across the room, and River must be centuries away because she doesn't notice him until he drops onto the couch behind her, draping the blanket around her shoulders.

" _Cariño_ ," she says fondly, eyes wide with surprise. She eases in his arms and lifts a pale hand to the side of his face. "I hope I didn't wake you."

MacCready shakes his head, slinging the quilt tighter around them to seal out the cold. "Storm did," he murmurs, dropping his mouth to her neck, and the first press of his lips along her skin sets a shiver down her spine. "But you got me out of bed."

Her laughter whispers velvet soft beneath the roaring drum of rainfall. She offers the joint over her shoulder, and he plucks it from her fingers with a lazy bite to the column of her throat. "Seems kinda like you've brought the bed to me," she teases, hitches in her breath.

"It's not the same without you in it," he answers easily. He slants a smirk around the joint, drawing shallow hits that filter thick into his lungs and leave a familiar burn at the back of his tongue, woodsy, harsh, like ash and earth.

Half-lidded honey eyes drift and linger at his mouth, and he blows her a kiss as he holds the smoke in his lungs, watching the laughter dance across her features. She tilts her head and lifts her mouth to the tender curve of his lip, edging in with teeth, and when the smoke curls in thin ringlets from between his lips, her tongue laps after the taste.

Ignoring the insistent urge to steal more kisses, he sets the joint between her lips and waits for her to take a languid hit, the cherry glowing fiery red. Her gaze is heavy with intention when she tugs him down into another kiss. He lets her guide him, lets her part his lips and tease her tongue along his teeth, drinking in the first few licks of smoke that slip between them. She tastes like weed and coffee, smoke and bittersweet, and he feels her lips curl up into a smile as he sips the hit from her mouth.

A sudden crash of thunder rumbles through the earth, and her breath catches in a gasp, voice threading into airy giggles when he wraps her in his arms. He presses his tongue at the part in her lips, his fingers slipping under silk-white hair to the back of her neck.

River pulls away for breath, watching ghosts of smoke leak from his teeth. She bites her lip and lifts the filter to his mouth, and he holds her gaze as he nurses another deep drag, flashing her a cocky smile. "Want it?" he asks in clipped syllables, breath held in his throat.

Pink dusts her cheeks, and slowly she nods, her lips curving to match his smile. MacCready steadies his thumb under the line of her jaw, tipping her head back, hovering just out of reach until she's whining her impatience, hunger bright in amber eyes. " _RJ_ ," scolding on her tongue, then, "Kiss me," soft and needy.

He smirks and dips his mouth to hers, and she draws the smoke from his lips with eager kisses. Her hands roam lovingly along his arms and shoulders, greedy for his warmth, and smoke drifts in ghostly trails from the joint in his fingers. She drags her mouth across his knuckles, adoring over hatch mark scars, stealing one last hit before she rises to her feet.

River's made of all the softest colors, ivory and gold and rosy pinks of setting sunlight. She plays her fingers through the long waves of her hair, one of his shirts hanging past her hips, hiding perfect skin behind a row of small round buttons; he could split them with a twist of his hand, and she seems to sense the urge in him, smiling coy strings of laughter as she dances out of reach. Black stockings rim her thighs, hugging tight at shapely legs, and suddenly he's starving for soft nylon in his hands, beneath his mouth, against his cock that aches and strains for her behind his briefs.

She toys with the first button, parting flannel to a valley of pale skin. Dim lanterns gild her shoulders when the sleeves spill down her arms, curves of glowing pearl through smoke trails and stormy darkness. Painted nails trace the slope of her thigh, teasing hints of hipbone and soft stomach, and even as his gaze devours every inch of delicate skin, he yearns for more.

The joint dwindles almost forgotten in his hand. He draws idly from the filter, spellbound by each button that falls open to her touch. His gaze follows the dip between her breasts, pale curves his mouth and hands have learned and worshipped calling out to him in siren melodies. In two short steps, he could bare the last of her skin and part those slender thighs, dip his mouth to velvet heat and grip her stockings in his fists as he makes her _come_ -

His muscles tense and spring before he can finish the thought, reaching for her waist, and she nudges him back against the couch with a fond smile. " _Si_ _éntate, hermoso_ ," teasing satin tones. "Be patient."

"Don't think you know how good you look," MacCready counters, voice strangled as he flexes restless hands. His throat has burned with thirst since the weed and smoke first parched his mouth and left him craving. He feels like he might self-combust at any moment, and he wants the taste of River on his tongue when he ignites.

She steals the joint for another hit, tattered flannel sinking to the small of her back as she exhales silver plumes of smoke, her skin like silk and gold under the lanterns. She cups her hand around the curve of his jaw, lifting his face into the light, and his eyes roam from her smile to her throat, her shoulders and her breasts, the stiff peaks of pink nipples, so much exquisite skin that he can't quite believe his luck. His dreams still take the shape of River's hips, and part of him is terrified that one day he'll wake up.

River lets his shirt puddle at her feet, and his gaze savors the planes of her bare skin, the dainty scrap of lace that hangs around her hips, damp with slick between her thighs. She gives him a lazy twirl, tracing smoke through the air with the joint in her fingers, laughing when another crack of thunder shatters the rain.

MacCready catches her by the hips and she sways into his lap, where his greedy hands prowl her thighs, kneading at her skin through nylon stockings. "You drive me crazy, knockout," he groans, dragging teeth down the line of her throat. "So damn beautiful."

Her laughter sings fond and wanting at his ear, slim fingers winding softly through his hair. "And all yours," she breathes, threads of longing in her voice like silk and smoke, so fucking _sultry_ , walking her fingers down his chest toward the ridge of his cock trapped between them.

He's already forgotten his exhaustion, his annoyance at the storm, his heart and hands are full of River, and he has no plans to let her go. "Need more hands," he grunts impatiently against her skin, and she laughs a wispy giggle, squirming as he scalds his palms over her hips. "Wanna feel all of you at once." He nuzzles his mouth between her breasts, hinting teeth at one and then the other.

"You'll have to - _mmn_ -" Her head falls back at the curl of his tongue, and he feels a well of pride that he can scatter River's pretty words. "- pick a favorite p-part."

MacCready eases her back against tattered cushions, planting kisses down her ribs and stomach with a husky chuckle. "Couldn't pick a favorite in a million years," he confesses, teasing seams of dark lace aside to admire the glistening folds between her thighs. "But I know where I wanna start." He spares the barest glance up at her face - flushed cheeks and straining brows, lips parting for his name - before he covers her with his mouth and rolls his tongue up in an avid stroke. His lips draw teasing pulls, and River feels like liquid satin on his tongue as he pins her thighs apart, black nylon bunching in his hands.

"Oh! _Baby_ -" Her voice winds off into shivering moans, soft pleas and praise in broken Spanish. The muscles in her thighs clench at his shoulders, and she arches open under him like petals to the sun, her heels two pressure points against his back. His fingers rove the tender skin above her stockings, scaling the slope of her thighs, converging on the heat beneath his mouth, where her arousal slicks his touch.

MacCready pauses to lick his tongue across his teeth, and smirks when River whimpers for his mouth. "Now who's impatient?" he teases, laving tender kisses to her thighs. Her body shakes with breathless giggles as his thumb coasts up slick folds to roll the bud of her clit, hips twitching at his touch.

"I'm - _ah_ \- always impatient." Warm with laughter, split across low groans, and he wants to bring her past the point of words and teasing, wants her screaming, wants her fucked apart and speechless in his arms. Her fingers tremble nails across his scalp, scattering shivers down his spine. "And you're very… very good at that."

He sinks his mouth down around her clit, driving in with slickened fingertips, and a groan climbs his throat at the soft feel of her. For all her poise and structure, River is so easy to unwind. Already he can feel the tension pulling at her muscles, forcing her hips into a fitful grind as she chants throaty sobs of his name. " _RJ, RJ, RJ_ ," on her lips, and there's no sweeter sound in all the sprawling edges of the earth than the woman he loves begging him to make her come.

And then she shatters, and her breath seizes and arcs into a wild cry that sings like music in his ears. Strong thighs hug in and shake around his head, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair as he makes measured passes with his tongue to ease her through the high. When the shivers fade, she gasps and curls away from the heat of his mouth, panting for breath.

MacCready swipes a palm over his mouth and wishes he could capture her like this somehow, flushed and glowing in the wake of coming down, sweat-damp and wrecked and still so fucking picturesque. The rain drones on across the roof like soothing backbeats to the rise and fall of River's breath, and her mouth is clumsy when their lips meet, humming little moans.

Soft hands frame his face, trailing loving fingertips through the shape of his beard. He needs a shave but he's been lazy, and she rolls her palm along the stubble that's grown in, drawing him close for a languid kiss. Their legs tangle together, and his cock slides over silky nylon, wrenching a groan from deep in his chest.

" _Pobrecito_ ," she soothes, dancing her fingers up his cock. "Fuck, I want you too, baby." She smolders amber eyes at him from under her lashes, tilting her head to bare the column of her throat. He nips his teeth at her neck and weaves his fingers into white hair, and the sound she makes sinks right to the pit of his gut, need and hunger fraying rough across her voice.

MacCready savors the silk of her stockings beneath his fingers, too soft for hands like his, and though the same can certainly be said about the woman they adorn, she somehow wants him too. His lips brush the tip of her nose, dusting kisses along her cheekbones, landing at the dimple that corners her smile.

River glows under his kisses and attention, wears his love in the curve of her smile, in the blush that dapples pink across her cheeks, and every mark that throbs and blossoms from his teeth. "Mmn, when you look at me like that," she sighs, and her voice sounds almost shy at the weight of his gaze. "You make me feel so beautiful." Kisses to the dips between his knuckles like tiny thanks.

"I love you," he replies, the only answer he can think to give, and he's sure it's written plain as day across his face, but the words feel so damn right between his lips, and he loves the way she smiles when she hears it. Like for one small, perfect moment, he's lifted the weight of the world from her shoulders, and that angel's heart of hers remembers how to fly.

River hooks her knees around his hips, urging him closer. "I love you," she chimes back, and curls soft fingertips around his cock, guiding him between her thighs. "Love you," as he pushes in, bitten down against his shoulder, stretching out into a wordless cry when finally they lock together. A shudder clambers through his shoulders at the warmth and grip of her around his cock, that stunning fucking fit, snug enough to siphon all the breath from his lungs. Her eyes screw shut under furrowed brows, and then the bliss smoothes out like porcelain across her features, and she digs her nails into his sides, urging him into motion.

Hushed murmurs crest the roar of falling rain, River's voice among the symphonies of thunderstorms as his hips give a languid thrust. His fingers slip against her stockings, trying to be gentle like he knows he should, but _fuck_ , she feels so _good_ , the only truth left in his world is that he belongs right here between her thighs, in the ring of her arms, beside the heart that races in her chest.

MacCready hunts his mouth along her throat, salt and smoke and sex at the back of his tongue. He rocks a sleepy, swaying rhythm, not quite even, driven by the need that thrums like instinct in his muscles and her frenzied whispers: _right there, baby, please, please, god, so fucking deep_ -

With a few more measured thrusts, he feels the first lurch in his stomach toward release, and River's words all melt and fragment, fucked apart into a voiceless scream. Fire rakes his belly at the sound, blissed-out and frantic, heralding the impact of her climax just before it seizes through her. Those shapely legs clinch at his hips, and amber eyes roll back under her lids, mouth slack around a litany of _RJ, RJ, please_ that he can just make out through labored moans. Her pleas tug heavy fingers at his heart, and the clench of slick heat pulsing tight around his cock snaps him across that line. He groans against her throat and buries himself deep, filling her with restless, twitching strokes.

Stray shivers still grip down his spine when he lifts away, groaning at the pearls of white that bead and well between pink, glossy folds. He drags his cock up through silken heat and sinks back into her, his breath a strangled whimper at the base of her throat, ghosts of pleasure twisting knots deep in his belly.

She soothes her fingers down his neck, and he can feel the tremble in her hands like falling leaves. The storm howls its discontent with no sign of relenting, but exhaustion seeps back in after the fall of coming down, and he can hardly lift his head from her shoulder. Sweat cools across his overheated skin and lulls him steadily toward slumber as he folds himself around her.

River listens to his breathing and the hush of falling rain, reaching for the joint again, and in the warmth of her embrace, MacCready sleeps soundly through the storm.


End file.
